Master Chief: The Case of the Missing Assault Rifle
by MyNameDylan
Summary: Oh No! Master Chief's assault rifle has gone missing! Can he find where it is, who stole it, and how to get it back? NOTE: This is not entirely universe-accurate, and is not supposed to be. It is a short comedy story. This story was created using Randumbness: Random Story Generator /story-generator/)
1. Chapter 1

It all started when our predictably heroic hero, Master Chief, woke up in a disease-infested jungle. It was the seventh time it had happened. Feeling really concerned, Master Chief stroked a live hand grenade, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). In a tragically predictable turn of events, he realized that his beloved Assault Rifle was missing! Immediately he called his so-called best friend, Kelly. Master Chief had known Kelly for (plus or minus) 1.2 billion years, the majority of which were electric ones. Kelly was unique. She was charismatic though sometimes a little... clueless. Master Chief called her anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Kelly picked up to a very glad Master Chief. Kelly calmly assured him that most long-haired sea monkeys cringe before mating, yet albino cats usually charismatically belch *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting Master Chief. Why was Kelly trying to distract Master Chief? Because she had snuck out from Master Chief's with the Assault Rifle only nine days prior. It was a sassy little Assault Rifle... how could she resist?

It didn't take long before Master Chief got back to the subject at hand: his Assault Rifle. Kelly sighed. Relunctantly, Kelly invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Assault Rifle. Master Chief grabbed his refrigerator and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Kelly realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the Assault Rifle and she had to do it carefully. She figured that if Master Chief took the rice rocket, she had take at least three minutes before Master Chief would get there. But if he took the Warthog? Then Kelly would be alarmingly screwed.

Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, Kelly was interrupted by nine insensitive Brutes that were lured by her Assault Rifle. Kelly cringed; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling worried, she carefully reached for her gerbil and aimlessly hit every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent-the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the bush, squealing with discontent. She exhaled with relief. That's when she heard the Warthog rolling up. It was Master Chief.


	2. Chapter 2

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Sears to pick up a 12-pack of dull pencils, so he knew he was running late. With a deft leap, Master Chief was out of the Warthog and went surreptitiously jaunting toward Kelly's front door. Meanwhile inside, Kelly was panicking. Not thinking, she tossed the Assault Rifle into a box of wolverines and then slid the box behind her canoe. Kelly was worried but at least the Assault Rifle was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' Kelly earnestly purred. With a hasty push, Master Chief opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some insensitive coke fiend in a Jap Trap,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Kelly assured him. Master Chief took a seat not remotely close to where Kelly had hidden the Assault Rifle. Kelly turned red trying unsuccessfully to hide her nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' she blurted. But Master Chief was distracted. Just as zero people expected Kelly noticed a clueless look on Master Chief's face. Master Chief slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

Kelly felt a stabbing pain in her shin when Master Chief asked this. In a moment of disbelief, she realized that she had hidden the Assault Rifle right by her oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A funny-smelling look started to form on Master Chief's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's live hand grenades from when she used to have pet man-eating capybaras. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Master Chief nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Kelly could react, Master Chief recklessly lunged toward the box and opened it. The Assault Rifle was plainly in view.

Master Chief stared at Kelly for what what must've been eight nanoseconds. In a tragically predictable turn of events, Kelly groped exotically in Master Chief's direction, clearly desperate. Master Chief grabbed the Assault Rifle and bolted for the door. It was locked. Kelly let out a saucy chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Master Chief,' she rebuked. Kelly always had been a little clueless, so Master Chief knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Kelly did something crazy, like... start chucking gerbils at her or something. Happy as a frickin' monkey, he gripped his Assault Rifle tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Kelly looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Master Chief. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame five days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly she felt a tinge of concern for Master Chief. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Kelly walked over to the window and looked down. Master Chief was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Just yonder, Master Chief was struggling to make his way through the bush behind Kelly's place. Master Chief had severely hurt his love handle during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral Brutes suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Assault Rifle. One by one they latched on to Master Chief. Already weakened from his injury, Master Chief yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of Brutes running off with his Assault Rifle.

But then God came down with His plucky smile and restored Master Chief's Assault Rifle. Feeling relieved, God smote the Brutes for their injustice. Then He got in His Jap Trap and blasted away with the fortitude of 153 Indonesian devil cats running from a enormous pack of venomous koalas. Master Chief tripped with joy when he saw this. His Assault Rifle was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in ten minutes his favorite TV show, Red VS Blue, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When albino cats meet unborn fetus'). Master Chief was overjoyed. And so, everyone except some brutes and a few hand grenade-toting 3-legged wallabies lived blissfully happy, forever after.


End file.
